“(Rude Scrabble)You played this game with your parents?" he asked skeptically.Yep. And Mom always won, the dirty bitch. I guess being older she'd been around more than me and Carrie," Sophie said, extracting replacement tiles from the box. "Although I don't know what Dad's excuse was. lack of imagination, I guess. Your turn.”

“One thing," I said, when we had broken apart and the swirling feeling in my head subsided. "Maybe...don't tell your mom too much about this. I think she has ideas." "What?" he asked, all innocence, as he put an arm around my shoulders and led me back toward his house. "Don't your parents cheer and stare when you make out with someone? Is that weird where you come from? I guess they don't get to see it much, though. From jail, I mean." "Shut it, Weintraub. If I knock you down in the snow, these kids will swarm and eat you.”

“I guess when you just don't care it kind of makes fear your bitch.”

“Kami said, "I want you to go in there and vamp that receptionist.""What?" Ash said blankly."You know," Kami said. "Dazzle her with your charms. Rock her world. Go on."[...] "What," Ash said, "all of us?""Do you want to stand around trying to guess if she likes pretty boys or rough trade?" Jared asked, gesturing lazily from Ash to himself."Excuse me, what did you just call yourself?" Ash demanded. "No, wait a second, I don't care. What did you just call me?”

“I've never understood it. That is always the first thing someone asks: Where are you from. Not 'What do you like?' or 'What do you believe?' or even 'What is your mother like?' which all have more bearing on the person I am. And if I don't tell them where I'm from, they try to guess.... It drives them mad, as if to know me they need to know where I am from.”

“A little girl came home from school with a drawing she'd made in class.She danced into the kitchen ,where her mother was preparing dinner."Mom,guess what ?" she squealed waving the drawing .her mother never looked up."what"? she said ,tending to the pots."guess what?" the child repeated ,waving the drawings."what?" the mother said , tending to the plates."Mom, you're not listening""sweetie,yes I am""Mom" the child said "you're not listening with your EYES”